There's but a brief breath now for me, at most. . . . Could you — move me along — that I may glimpse Still how the battle's going ?
Ay, Sir John — A few yards higher up, where we can see.
He is borne in the blanket a little way onward, and lifted so that he can view the valley and the action.
MOORE (brightly) They seem to be advancing. Yes, it is so !
Enter SIR JOHN HOPE.
Ah, Hope ! — I am doing badly here enough ; But they are doing rarely well out there.
(Presses Hope's hand.)
Don't leave ! my speech may flag with this fierce pain, But you can talk to me. — Are the French foiled ?
HOPE My dear friend, they are borne back steadily.
MOORE (his voice weakening)
I hope that England — will be satisfied — I hope my native land — will do me justice ! . . . I shall be blamed for sending Craufurd off Along the Orense road. But had I not, Bonaparte would have headed us that way. . . .
O would that Soult had but accepted fight By Lugo town ! We should have crushed him there*